


start as you mean to go on

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Gig, like right after the first episode kind of early, minor injury (not detailed), set VERY early in ground game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: A small valley is a perfect time to perfect your skills: drawing, sword fighting, falling in love.





	start as you mean to go on

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to maddie for betaing and being a one-person cheer squad for me always

Echo’s  _ supposed _ to be the bodyguard here. They’re supposed to be watching out for all these mesh-obsessed idiots, and right now they’re  _ especially _ supposed to be keeping an eye on this particular mesh-obsessed idiot.

 

And then it turns out that Gig can, quite literally, keep an eye on himself.

 

“Sorry,” says Gig, turning away from them to  _ put his eye back in his head _ (and people think  _ they’re _ the weird one for not wanting anything to do with the mesh). “I guess it’s kind of weird the first time you see it. I usually mesh over it. Guess I can't hide it from you, though.”

 

“You… what?”

 

“You know I just,” Gig wriggles his fingers over his eye, “mesh over it, so people don't get weirded out by it when I'm streaming myself.”

 

“Do you do this a lot?” asks Echo slowly.

 

They’re not trying to be  _ judgy _ , they’d just like to know what to expect. Gig blinks a few times, his eye twitching unnervingly before it settles to match his bio eye.

 

Gig shrugs. “Sometimes. It helps for views, y’know? Get a different perspective on things. Besides, I didn’t want you to get lost out here.”

 

“I was  _ fine _ ,” says Echo, trying not to grit their teeth.

 

Gig holds up his hands. “Hey, what matters is we found each other, we’re both okay, and now we can work out how to get down from here and back in range.”

 

Echo huffs a breath. Back in range, right. That’s something people think about, being out of range. He jerks his head in the direction of the trail back down.

 

“Grand’s probably wondering where we are,” says Echo.

 

“Well I was thinking more of Myriad, but yeah, him too,” says Gig.

 

“Myriad. The...ship?” says Echo.

 

“Yep,” says Gig, “I mean she  _ says _ she doesn’t need to be talked to but it’s gotta be lonely you know? All the way out here, with the quiet…”

 

He trails off, looking over his shoulder at their high view of the canyon below. 

 

“I didn’t really notice it,” says Echo tensely.

 

“Oh, yeah, no,” says Gig, “I guess you wouldn’t, really. Must be quiet everywhere for you.”

 

Echo thinks of the crowded slums, people living without the mesh cramped together, clinging to one another, forming their own connection and communications without tech. They shrug.

 

Gig trips over his own feet, righting himself before Echo can move to help him. He’s not really wearing the right shoes for hiking. He’s not even wearing matching shoes - one blue, rubbery sneaker with a green wire for laces, paired with an off-white tennis shoe, both old and worn. All his clothes are like that, a mishmash of colours and fabric and old ship’s wiring.

 

Echo made  _ their  _ clothes themselves too, and  _ their _ clothes don’t look like  _ that.  _ Echo manages to restrain themselves from remarking on it. For all they know the wire in Gig’s shoes is part of the system he uses to broadcast.

 

Gig hums to himself as they walk down, the notes jolting with his steps. He barely looks at the path in front of him, and Echo feels like they have to keep their eyes on him, muscles braced to stop his fall. Gig trips a few times, stumbling over rocks or his own feet or nothing at all, mostly managing to right himself.

 

He stops as the reach a bend in the track, looking out over the canyon. Echo takes a few steps, then looks back, barely suppressing their annoyance as Gig continues to stare out at the scenery. 

 

“Come on,” says Echo. 

 

Gig starts, shooting him a bashful grin. “Sorry, I had to, you know…” He waves a hand, “for the record.” He looks back over his shoulder. “And it's an  _ amazing  _ view.”

 

“Well, we're going to get a lot of time to look at it,” says Echo, starting to walk faster now that Gig is moving. 

 

Gig struggles to keep up, breath coming faster the further down they get. It doesn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm though, giving Echo a quick grin whenever they look over at him. It's beyond irritating, especially because they can't  _ not  _ look at him. He seems to stumble every few steps, an accident waiting to happen.

 

Gig pauses to strip off his jacket, tying his jacket around his waist. He tugs at the hem of his shirt, making a face as the fabric sticks to his sweaty skin. When he turns back around, Echo can see how thin material of his shirt clings to the long lines of his back as well. They keep their eyes trained on him. If he trips and falls down the canyon, Echo's going to be the one who suffers for it. That is  _ absolutely  _ the only reason.

 

They manage to make it down without disaster. Gig flops down next to Grand, leaning his sweaty head against Grand’s shoulder, eyes closed. Grand makes a face but doesn't push him away, which honestly shows more restraint than Echo would have thought.

 

They folds themselves neatly opposite the two of them, looking around their campsite. It doesn't look like Grand's been up to much during their excursions. 

 

“How's everything looking?” says Grand. 

 

“Fine,” says Echo. “Even not back yet?” 

 

“He was,” says Grand vaguely. “I think he went to get firewood, or to check out plant life, or something.”

 

Gig's eyes snap open. “How long ago did he leave?”

 

Grand shrugs. “Not that long ago, uh... “ he picks up his tablet, scrolling through. “He left when I was working on this one, so um, maybe like an hour?” He looks from Gig to Echo. “He's probably fine.”

 

Echo sighs. There's still a little while until the sun goes down, and Even at least seems sensible enough to not blunder into anything too dangerous. And he’s a soldier. Of the three, he’s the one Echo can afford to worry about the least.

 

Gig's scrolling through Grand's tablet, the images a blur to Echo's eyes. Every so often he makes a small, appreciative noise, and Grand flicks him a smile before he starts on a tangent about the piece. 

 

Echo listens with half an ear, surveying the campsite. The other two certainly aren't keeping an eye on their surroundings so  _ they'll  _ have to. 

 

“Right, Echo?” says Gig. 

 

Echo blinks over at them. “I wasn't listening. Sorry.”

 

Grand’s shoulders droop a little but Gig holds the tablet out so they can see. Projected from it is the design of a sword. Whoever drew it clearly didn't know anything about weight balance for swords and certainly wasn't concerned about the practical side of things. Grand looks at them expectantly. 

 

“It's very... “ Echo tries to think of something positive. “Pretty.”

 

Grand beams. Gig nods, looking between the two of them and grinning widely. 

 

“Yeah, that's what I said,” says Gig. 

 

“I mean it needs some more work,  _ obviously _ , but that's the basic design,” says Grand. 

 

Gig hums, which Grand apparently takes an a sign to continue. He barely pauses for breath when he talks about his designs. Echo follows for a few minutes before they tune him out, leaving them to their own thoughts accompanied by the visual of Grand's excited hand movements and broad smile which isn't… a bad view, necessarily. It's a nice smile, even if the person it belongs is making an incredibly pompous speech about designs and biometrics. 

 

The view also means that they can see Gig's smaller, shyer smile whenever Grand touches his shoulder. Huh.

 

Gig ducks his head slightly, as though trying to hide his expression. Echo’s certain that Grand wouldn't notice, the way he's focused on going through the designs in front of him right now. Gig brushes some hair away from his face, nodding as Grand speaks.

 

Grand traces around part of the design with his finger to magnify it, manipulating the image to bring that section into sharper focus. The light of the hologram catches on the scattering of small scars and burns on his hands, drawing Echo’s attention to them for the first time. They watch his hands arch through the air. His movements are quick but steady, making smooth lines of light as he sketches and adding a brighter illumination to Grand’s features.

 

A branch snaps behind the treeline and Echo turns towards it, their hand on their sword hilt. They relax, a little, at the sight of Even emerging from the shadows, a bunch of vials clutched in his arms. There's a a few leaves sticking out of his hair. 

 

“ _ Fascinating _ plant life on this planet,” says Even, by way of greeting. 

 

Gig switches his focus, hopping up from next to Grand to look at what Even's holding. Grand frowns, minimising his designs.

 

Gig holds one on Even's vials up to the light, peering inside, asking Even question after question. Echo can hear the faint whir of his eye as he zooms in. 

 

“I didn't know you were so interested in the ecology of this planet,” says Even, smiling. 

 

“I'm interested in everything,” says Gig brightly, “and also, we might need to know, you know, for The Record.”

 

Even nods, and continues his explanation. It is interesting, and Even certainly is a wealth of knowledge about the topic at hand, but there's only so much talk about different kinds of lichens that Echo can take in before their attention starts to drift. 

 

Not helping their focus is Grand, still fiddling with the datapad in his lap. He doesn't seem to be doing anything, not as far as Echo can tell anyway, just turning the design around. Occasionally he glances up, pressing his lips together before he ducks his head back down again. 

 

Echo looks slowly from Gig to Grand.  _ Huh.  _

 

Well that's certainly going to be something to watch out for. Things are difficult enough without having to navigate around other people’s  _ romantic  _ relationships.

 

The rest of the night is uneventful, in terms of outside interference and interpersonal drama. It's a big enough group to split the watch up into smaller shifts than Echo’s had in the past, and with the amount they have to travel in the coming days to stay on schedule they’re certainly going to need the extra hours of rest.

 

Echo does a quick scout through the surrounding area before they head to bed, just in case. There’s no sign of anyone passing through the area beside them which is odd but comforting. Even nods to them as they pass by on the way to their tent, his eyes scanning the trees behind them. Echo nods back.

 

They almost bump into Gig as he steps out of Grand’s tent. Gig jumps back a little, his cheeks flushing faintly. His hands flutter in the air for a moment before he crosses his arms over his chest.

 

“Sorry,” says Gig, “I was just, um… I’m just heading to bed.”

 

They nod. They’re not here to police what goes on in other people’s tents, although they’re a little confused as to why Gig and Grand apparently feel the need to hide it (especially since they’re both two of the worst liars Echo has ever encountered). It would save time and energy if they’d just share the same tent, Grand’s is certainly big enough for more than one person. Then again, given their personalities, maybe they both need the extra room.

 

Gig’s still hovering outside Grand’s tent as Echo slips in their own tent, so maybe his plan is to spend the night there after all. Echo rolls their eyes. It’s a good thing they don’t require espionage for this mission, they have a feeling Gig and Grand would not excel at it given how obvious they are about their feelings.

 

They can hear the faint rustle of fabric as Gig seals a tent shut, but it’s impossible to know if it’s his own or Grand’s. Echo shifts to lie on their side, facing away from the camp. It’s none of their business anyway.

 

\--

 

They've been walking for a couple of hours when Echo turns to Gig to track their positioning on the map and notices his eye is just  _ gone.  _ They flinch. Gig claps his hand over his empty eye socket, blushing faintly. 

 

“Sorry! I sent it on ahead, there's this really cool canyon, and--anyway, sorry.” He huffs a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I should stop that, huh?”

 

“It's fine,” says Even from behind them, “We'll get used to it.”

 

Echo nods, watching Gig carefully. His hands flutter nervously in the air as he speaks. 

 

“I'll, uh… I'm going to go up ahead to get it. It's having trouble with the altitude anyway.”

 

Even speeds up a little, walking in-between Gig up ahead and Grand and Echo with the trolley, trying to keep them all in his line of sight. 

 

Grand clears his throat. “Don't worry about Gig, he'll get over it. I mean,  _ I'm  _ still not used to seeing it without the mesh on it.”

 

“I didn't think you would've been such a fan of health and safety broadcasts,” says Echo. 

 

Grand flushes a light pink. “I'm-- we knew each other socially. We used to talk sometimes, on the mesh.”

 

“Oh,” says Echo. 

 

“I mean,” says Grand hurriedly, “the mesh is no real substitute for  _ real  _ connections in the physical world. I guess if we'd done that I'd be more used to his whole,” Grand waves his hand, “eye situation.”

 

“Don't  _ you  _ have cybereyes?” says Echo. 

 

Grand's flush deepens. “Yeah but-- that's different. Mine aren't coming out of my head and bouncing around. They're still my  _ real  _ eyes, just with some minor, you know, improvements.”

 

They've caught up to Even and Gig now, at the edge of a large canyon. The dusty, rocky terrain they're standing on changes the further down it gets into the canyon, transforming into lush, deep green grass. Tall trees group together at the bends of a slow-moving stream that cuts through the canyon; Echo’s eyes follow it back to the waterfall in the opposite side of the canyon. Gig grins at them, spreading his arms wide. 

 

“See?” he says. “I told you it was cool.”

 

“I guess your eye was right,” says Echo. 

 

Gig  _ beams _ at them. “I guess so. Are we going through it or around?”

 

“Through,” says Even, looking down at the map. “We're supposed to put a node down in there.”

 

Echo nods, nudging the trolley down the slope. They pick their way down carefully, picking up speed as the ground gets less rocky underfoot. 

 

Every time they glance back, Gig and Grand are talking quietly to each other, more concerned with steadying each other than keeping themselves steady. Grand slips a little on the rocks underfoot and Gig reaches out to grab his arm, stopping him from falling. Grand smiles at him, and Gig’s hand lingers a fraction longer than necessary before they start walking again. Echo turns back ahead, ignoring the tight feeling in their chest. If Gig and Grand are watching out for each other it only makes their job here easier. 

 

It’s late afternoon by the time they make it down the mountainside. Grand leans against a boulder, trying to catch his breath.

 

“It looks like there's a good place to stop up ahead,” says Even, “shouldn't take us more than a few hours to get there.”

 

Gig looks over his shoulder at the map. “We’ll be almost halfway to the place we've got to drop the node then.”

 

“Great,” says Grand.

 

“It's not that much further,” says Gig.

 

“Yeah, no, I know,” says Grand, “that's why it's great.”

 

Gig gives Echo a look. They raise their eyebrows at him. Gig looks back at Grand and then at Echo again. Echo shrugs. 

 

Gig sighs. “Hey, um. Can we take a break before we head out? Just like, ten minutes?”

 

“Sure,” says Even. “As long as we keep it short.”

 

Echo nods. They take a small drink from their canteen. There's a stream up ahead according to the map, but they'd rather not get caught out if it's run dry. They check on the trolley, making sure nothing's come loose during their walk down into the canyon. 

 

Grand takes a long drink from his canteen, pushing off the rock to come next to them. 

 

“Everything okay?” 

 

Echo nods. “Looks fine.”

 

“Great,” says Grand. 

 

He fiddles with the canteen in his hands, hovering. He keeps looking down at the trolley and then back up to them, something almost expectant in his gaze.

 

Echo leans back. “Did you… want something?”

 

“I was just checking the equipment,” says Grand, “you know. Machines being my speciality.”

 

“I thought that was art?” says Echo. 

 

Grand’s eyes light up. “Well machines can be art, in fact--”

 

And he's off, explaining the design of the node in comparison to the design of his more artistic mechs. Echo nods, feeling their attention drift. They scan the treeline, their eyes falling on Gig and Even. Their heads are bowed over the map, Gig's lanky form bending as he trails a finger over the hologram. Even nods and Gig smiles, looking pleased. 

 

“Right,” says Even, “that's about ten. Ready to head out?”

 

Echo nods. 

 

Grand gives a small grunt as he gets his pack onto his back again. 

 

Gig gives him a look. “Okay?”

 

Grand waves a hand. Gig shrugs. He gives Echo a similar look of concern. Echo raises their eyebrows at him, and Gig blushes faintly. 

 

Gig clears his throat. “Right. Not far now.”

 

Gig and Grand fall behind again, walking slowly next to the trolley. Even keeps pace with Echo, his gaze fixed ahead of them. Echo keeps watch to their sides, occasionally glancing back. They can trust Even to be alert if anything appears ahead of them -- he was a soldier after all -- but they're not sure they can trust Gig and Grand to be on that level. 

 

After they've glanced back a few times, Even flicks his gaze towards them. 

 

“Something the matter?”

 

“No,” says Echo, “just...keeping an eye on them.”

 

“Ah,” says Even. 

 

There's something strange about his tone, some kind of fondness, although they're not sure if it's for them or Gig and Grand.

 

“I won't take it personally if you want to walk with them,” says Even, “I might be an old soldier, but I remember what it's like.”

 

Echo supposes he would, taking care of scouting battalions and worrying over them even when there was no urgent cause to do so. They can hear the soft burble of Gig and Grand's voices behind them. Scouting battalions probably never waxed so poetic about mech designs. 

 

“I'm fine up here,” says Echo, “besides, I'm sure they appreciate having time to talk about… whatever it is they talk about.”

 

Even huffs a laugh. “Plenty of time for that on this mission. I don't think they'd mind the interruption.”

 

Echo feels a prickle of irritation. “Am I  _ bothering  _ you?”

 

Even blinks, glancing at them before their gaze turns back to the space in front of them. 

 

“Not at all,” says Even. “I just don't want you to feel like you have to humour an old soldier when you'd rather be somewhere else.”

 

“If I wanted to be somewhere else, I'd be somewhere else,” says Echo. 

 

Behind them, Gig laughs, loud and bright. They're close enough that they can hear Grand's more reserved chuckle underneath the sound. Something squirms in Echo's stomach, and they make a face. 

 

“It's a good thing this mission doesn't require stealth,” they say. 

 

Even smiles. “I'm kind of glad for it in a way. They're the sort of people we have to make a new home for. If they can get by without trouble down here, everyone else should have no problem.”

 

“Not that they'll notice being down here much;” says Echo, “once we finish putting in the nodes they'll be straight back on the mesh and forget all about this.”

 

“Echo,” says Even.

 

“What,” says Echo, “it's true.”

 

Even pauses. “Not to meddle, but… I don't think this is something they'll forget.”

 

“Whatever,” says Echo, “it's not like it matters to me.”

 

They look away, studying the treeline to their left intently. They can feel Even study  _ them  _ for a moment before his gaze flicks back to the front. 

 

Behind them, the warm murmur of Gig and Grand's voices follow them through the canyon. Echo scowls at the treeline and tries their best to ignore the sound. It's more difficult than it should be. 

 

\--

 

They make it to the spot marked for the node later than anticipated. Gig and Grand work on getting it set up, Gig barely glancing at the diagrams Grand throws up. They're a much more efficient team at this than Echo would have expected from the outset. 

 

Grand reaches for something on the node and Gig yelps, catching his hand and pulling it back and speaking to him in a low voice. The breeze brings every other word their way, giving Echo a patchwork of Gig and Grand's whispered conversation about machinery and touching things that are live wires. Grand’s hand stays tightly grasped in Gig's. 

 

“Everything alright over there?” says Even, from where he's setting up their tents. 

 

“Fine,” says Grand quickly, dropping Gig's hand.

 

Gig nods, his fingers flying over the solid light keyboard. 

 

Things go much smoother after that, the whirling of the drill fading to a dull buzzing as it moves further and further underground. Even strokes a campfire and doles out their rations and hot cups of tea. 

 

Grand dozes off about halfway through his, his head leaning against Gig's shoulder. Gig gently plucks the mug from Grand's hands before he can spill it, offering it to Even and Echo before pouring it into his own mug. 

 

Because Grand is asleep, he gets tasked with the watch shift none of them want in the early hours of the morning. Gig wakes him up after they've split it, gently prodding him towards his ridiculous lime-green tent. He stumbles a little under Grand’s weight and Echo puts out an arm, more to stop Gig and Grand falling on them than anything.

 

“Thanks,” says Gig, “can you…?”

 

Echo would really like to say no. Grand’s a grown man and should be able to get himself to his own tent; they don’t want to encourage Gig in coddling Grand like this for the whole trip, and they’d  _ much _ rather just go to their own tent to get some rest before their watch. But then Gig looks down at them, his smile shy and his arms trembling a little with the effort of supporting Grand’s weight on his own.

 

They sigh. “Sure.”

 

Gig’s smile widens, and together they get Grand into his tent. The inside of it is pretty much as they’d expected - small gadgets still shiny and new in a tent entirely too clean to have seen any use before this mission. Grand’s sleeping gear is still in a pile on top of his chrome camping bed. Gig sighs, letting go of Grand to undo the clips and buckles securing it.

 

Grand slumps more against Echo as Gig lets him go and Echo shifts their grip on Grand’s arms. Grand makes a soft sound, leaning his head against their shoulder. 

 

Gig pats Grand’s shoulder. “All set. You alright?”

 

“Yeah, I--” Grand yawns.

 

Gig laughs softly. “Me too.”

 

Grand bends, his head still leaning against Echo as he fumbles with the laces of his boots for a moment. Gig rolls his eyes, batting Grand’s hands out of the way as he kneels to unlace them. Echo averts their eyes - the sight of Gig bending over the laces of Grand's shoes feels very… private, especially under Grand's soft gaze, a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth. They would leave, but Grand's leaning on them heavily, blinking sleepily down at Gig. His hair feels soft where it brushes against the skin under their jaw. 

 

They give a sigh of relief as Gig finishes, pushing Grand back onto his camping bed. He blinks up at the two of them. His usual carefully neutral expression has dissolved under the weight of his tiredness, leaving him looking rumpled and soft. 

 

Gig brushes the hair off Grand's forehead. “ _ Now _ you can sleep.”

 

Grand's eyes slide closed. “Okay.”

 

Gig huffs a laugh. “Okay.”

 

He hold the tent flap open for Echo as they leave. 

 

“Thanks,” says Gig, “I know he can be kind of… and that's not really what you signed up for.”

 

“I didn't sign up,” says Echo curtly. 

 

“Right,” says Gig, “right, sorry.” He pauses. “But still. Thanks.”

 

“It's fine,” says Echo. “Just don't make it a habit. He's gotta learn to get to his own bed by himself.”

 

Gig blushes faintly. “Yeah, no, totally. I'm on first watch, right? So I'll wake you when it's time.”

 

“Sure,” says Echo.

 

“Good night, Echo,” says Gig softly, as Echo turns away to their own tent. 

 

His tone is the same as his tone to Grand had been in the tent. Echo pauses for a moment, caught between turning and walking forward. 

 

“Good night, Gig,” says Echo, taking a step towards their tent. 

 

They do not look back, but it's a near thing. 

 

\--

 

Echo’s always been the sort that wakes up before they need to. They're not sure if it's a product of being without nanos or if it's a side effect of their career choice. It's something they're stuck with either way, so they suppose it doesn't really matter. It comes in handy more often than not.

 

They stand, stretching their arms over their head and pulling on their outerwear before they step outside their tent. May as well relieve Gig a little early. 

 

Gig is sitting on the grass, leaning back on his hands, head tilted up to the night sky. Echo flicks their gaze up, but there's nothing but stars above them. Gig doesn't give any indication that he's seen them. His face twitches, small expressions flickering, as though he's listening to a conversation Echo can't hear. He probably is. 

 

Gig huffs a laugh. “Yeah, right? Hard to imagine.”

 

Echo pauses. 

 

“It’s,” Gig sighs, spreading his arms over his head, “it’s really open here. Can’t do this in the editing booth. Although I guess I don’t really need a booth for that now, with the new system.” He pauses, then huffs a laugh. “It looks a bit like your control centre, but if you lowered the roof a bit. It's cramped but it's always warm.” Another pause, and Gig laughs louder this time, covering his mouth to try and muffle the sound. “Well maybe next time we’re together I’ll check out your control centre a bit more  _ thoroughly _ , huh?”

 

Gig’s cheeks are flushed, and he’s grinning, leaning back on his hands and head tilted up to the sky. The firelight illuminates his profile.

 

“Well, it's like they say, I've got the connections if you've got the receptors.” A pause, and then Gig laughs, bright and loud this time. The sound echoes through the grove. “What, people say that!”

 

He twitches, body flinching at a noise Echo can't hear. 

 

“Yeah, no, okay.” He pauses. “No, you run what you gotta run. Hit me up when you come back on, I’ll probably be up for a bit still.” His lips quirk into a quick smile. “You too. Bye Myriad.”

 

He bites his lip, head tilting to one side, eyes closed. His fingers flex in the grass. Gig’s eyes flutter open, the firelight catching on his lashes. He lets out a long breath. He hums to himself, a sustained and unmusical note.

 

There’s another humming sound, higher-pitched, more like a buzzing really, jolting Echo out of their daze as something zooms past his ear. It’s Gig’s eye, hovering for a moment in front of him before landing in Gig’s outstretched hand. Gig carefully checks it over, wiping a few spots with his thumb before he puts it back in.

 

Gig never gives the impression that the action gives him any pain, but Echo winces at the sight.

 

“So honey,” Gig murmurs to himself, “How was your day?”

 

He tilts his head back again, eyes closed. Echo watches the line of his throat as he swallows. 

 

“We sure are a long way from home,” says Gig, “Although I guess this will be everyone's home soon. No more little editing booth. No more winding corridor. No more repatching that spot above the shower that's always rusting over.”

 

Tears trickle down Gig's cheeks and he frowns, wiping his eyes and staring down at his hand for a moment. 

 

“Oh,” says Gig, “Weird.”

 

Echo clears their throat and Gig's head snaps up to look at them. He wipes his eyes a few more times, cheeks flushing pink. 

 

“Hey, uh, hey! You still have another half hour,” says Gig. His bright voice sounds a little scratchy. 

 

“It's fine,” says Echo, “I woke up, half an hour isn't going to make much difference.” They pause. “Are you… okay?”

 

“Oh, totally, yeah, don't worry about it,” says Gig, “it just happens sometimes, since the stream suppressor. It's fine.”

 

“Okay,” says Echo. 

 

Gig looks up at them for a moment. “So, uh, nothing, like, noteworthy happened. I checked in with Myriad, everything's fine on her end.”

 

“Okay,” says Echo again.

 

Gig sniffs, wiping his eyes.

 

“Are you… sure you’re okay?” asks Echo.

 

They’re not entirely sure how much of Gig is cyberware. They try to remember what they know about repairing electronics. Maybe Grand can help them if Gig’s short circuiting.

 

“Seriously, I’m fine,” says Gig, “they said there might be some minor side effects, so this is just an expected part of the process, y’know, as much as there  _ is _ an expected part of the process for something like this.”

 

Right, they remember now: highly experimental tech. It was on their notes of things to watch out for while they were down here.

 

“Should I be expecting any other…” they consider their words carefully, “side effects?”

 

“Nah,” says Gig, waving a hand, “it’s just this sometimes, Myriad thinks it might be pollen or something in the air messing with the receptors. Nothing dangerous.”

 

“But it could be,” says Echo.

 

Gig blinks up at them. “Well, yeah. Ninety-nine percent probability of something being fine still leaves that one percent that it won’t.”

 

Echo wrinkles their nose. “Why would you take that chance? You could have  _ died _ .”

 

Gig raises his eyebrows. “Are you kidding? Pass up a chance to connect to that many people?”

 

“It's not connecting you to anyone right now;” says Echo, “seems like a wasted risk to me.”

 

Gig's shoulders droop before twitching back up again. “It won't be wasted to too long. Once we get these nodes connected the mesh’ll be down here too.”

 

Echo's chest feels tense. “Right.” They look into the treeline, staring hard at the branches. “So. You can go to sleep now.”

 

Gig scrambles up. “Sure, yeah, I'll get out of your hair.”

 

Echo nods. They poke at the fire, not looking at Gig as he turns towards his patchwork tent. They don't look up until they hear Gig's tent zip shut. 

 

\--

 

The morning breaks bright and clear. Echo looks up at the faded roof of their tent at they listen to the quiet sounds outside.

 

Even is talking quietly to Gig as Echo exits their tent. Gig turns a half-burnt stick over in his hands, nodding to Even. He breaks into a wide, bright smile as he spots Echo. 

 

“Good morning!” says Gig cheerfully. 

 

Even nods in greeting, handing Echo a ration bar. Echo sighs. They understand the practicality of the bars, but they do miss  _ real  _ food.

 

“Gig,” says Even, “Now that Echo's up, maybe you should wake Grand as well?”

 

Gig nods, bouncing up and heading towards Grand's tent, tapping out a rhythm with the stick and he walks. 

 

Echo lets out a long breath. 

 

Even hums in agreement. “Very cheerful first thing in the morning. I used to do mostly solo missions, so I suppose I'm still getting used to it.”

 

“How long's he been up?”

 

Even thinks for a moment, his eyes sliding towards Grand's tent. “A little before sunrise. I think he had trouble sleeping.”

 

Echo blinks. “Gig?” 

 

Even hums again. “He didn't say anything, but I know the look.”

 

“He was probably just up late talking to Myriad of something,” says Echo. 

 

Despite whatever weird bug was messing with Gig's system last night, they find it hard to think of it keeping Gig up at night. He hadn't seemed to think anything of it, and the spring in his step at he'd moved towards Grand's tent certainly hadn't hinted at any hidden weight. 

 

“Maybe,” says Even. 

 

Gig pulls a still half-asleep Grand from the tent. Grand has his coat half on, stifling a yawn and Gig pushes him towards Even and Echo. He mumbles a greeting as Even hands him the ration bar, slumping onto his camping chair. Gig hands him a steaming mug, the scent of it deep and rich in the morning breeze. Grand mumbles his thanks, his eyes sliding closed at he sips his coffee. 

 

“No problem buddy,” says Gig cheerfully. 

 

Gig nods to Even and Echo, before turning towards the node, humming to himself. He starts checking it over carefully, crouching and putting a hand on one of the panels as he peers at the readout screens.

 

Grand starts to lean a little too much to one side, and Echo reaches out to steady him. They can feel the Grand's muscles shift under his coat, warm and solid as he leans against them. 

 

Grand blinks up at them. “Oh, sorry. Guess I'm not really used to early mornings.”

 

Echo snorts. That's the understatement of the millennia. Even gives them a warning look, and they sigh. 

 

“It's fine,” says Echo.

 

They keep their hand on his shoulder until Grand wakes up properly. They don't want him to spill coffee on himself.

 

“I thought today we might explore the area a little,” says Even. “You know, two of us stay here with the node and two of us go out, then trade off.”

 

“Sounds great,” says Grand, “Who’s with who?”

 

“I was thinking I’d go out first,” says Even, “but if the two of you are really keen on exploring I can wait. We’ll be here a while after all.”

 

Echo shrugs. “I’m fine to stay here.”

 

“Great,” says Even brightly, “I’ve been looking at the map and I think I have a good idea of a starting point for us.”

 

Grand blinks. “Us?”

 

“Oh,” says Even, “Well, you don’t have to… I suppose I don’t really need a secondary for sample collecting.”

 

“We’re going sample collecting?” says Gig.

 

“I’m not going to force it onto people,” says Even, “I know it’s not really the style where you guys are from.”

 

“Collecting stuff for the future?” says Gig, “We’re all  _ about _ that!”

 

Even smiles. “Well. Alright. Head out in ten?”

 

Gig beams. “Sure!”

 

Even nods to him, turning to his tent.

 

“You’re going to do  _ sample collection _ ?” asks Grand, once Even is out of earshot.

 

“Why not? It’ll give me a chance to test out my new sunglasses,” says Gig.

 

He pulls the sunglasses out of his back pocket, waving them around for a moment before placing them on his nose. The glasses as huge, one bulbous lens dark in the morning sun and the other a light blue over the cybereye. He flips the blue lens up and out to the side.

 

“I made them myself,” says Gig.

 

“I guessed,” says Grand.

 

Gig’s smile falters for a moment before returning full force. “Yeah! It’s better this way,  because now my eye can get out without me having to take the glasses all the way off.”

 

“You could have asked me to build you something,” says Grand.

 

Gig blinks at him. “Oh. I thought you’d… I mean, they’re not exactly a format for artistic expression, you know? I figured you had better stuff to do.”

 

Grand reaches out and touches the back of Gig’s hand. “Hey. I always have time for your stuff.”

 

Gig’s bright blush glows in the morning light. Echo takes a quiet step backwards, trying to calculate how quickly the can move away from Gig and Grand to give them privacy without either of them knowing.

 

Grand coughs awkwardly, removing his hand. “Art can, uh, be large or small, after all.”

 

“Well,” says Gig, “next time I'll ask you for a small artwork, guess.”

 

He ducks his head, smiling down at the sunglasses in his hands.

 

“Ready to go?” says Even. 

 

“Sure!” says Gig. He waves at Grand and Echo, even though they're standing a pace in front of him. “See you guys later.”

 

“Bye,” says Echo. 

 

“Watch out for each other,” says Even, going Echo a pointed look. 

 

“Yeah yeah,” says Echo, “I know.”

 

How much trouble could Grand get himself in while they stayed at camp anyway. 

 

It turns out the trouble with Grand isn't so much that he can get himself into trouble. The trouble is getting a word in edgewise. 

 

“Listen,” says Echo, after what feels like a hour of Grand talking, “I’m going to go practice.”

 

Grand frowns. “Practice? Practise what?”

 

“Sword practice,” says Echo, standing up. 

 

Grand hurriedly stands to follow them. “Oh, I'll come too.”

 

“I'm not going anywhere,” says Echo, “I'll just be over there.”

 

They gesture to the patch of shaded grass nearby, where the tall trees branches are intertwined overhead to provide a thick blanket of shade from the midday sun. 

 

“Oh,” says Grand. He taps his stylus against his leg. 

 

Echo sighs. “I mean, you can come sit near me if you want to be in the shade or whatever.”

 

“Oh, yeah, the shade,” says Grand, “Good idea. Don't want to get, um, sunburnt.”

 

Echo turns, stripping out of their jacket and putting it out of the way with their scabbard. They try to ignore Grand's eyes on them as they move through the paces of the old familiar training drill. It's not a particularly interesting set of moves, just a smooth set of basic motions, but that's why they like to start off with it. It never fails to quiet the world around them, the simple motions drawing in their attention, letting the outside world fade away. 

 

Having a physical task to do had always helped centre them, but stumbling into sword fighting had been something else entirely. Even at the start, when they'd been a clumsy novice, it was as though their body knew what to do, how to move, even if it hadn't got the motion down smooth. As natural and as easy as breathing. 

 

They're part-way through a more complicated drill when a flash of light in the corner of their eye distracts them. It is, of course, Grand, leaning back against a tree, sketching a design of hard light into the air in front of him, too small for Echo to properly make it out. He bites his lip, focused intensely on the glowing sketch in front of him. Their steps falter a little and they sigh, annoyed.

 

Grand looks up quickly. “Hey, are you, um. Do you want some water or something?”

 

“No,” says Echo. 

 

“Okay,” says Grand. 

 

He falls quiet, and Echo foolishly thinks he might have talked himself out for a moment before Grand stands quickly. He's fiddling with the design in his hands, growing and shrinking it between his palms. 

 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” says Grand. “Your opinion on something, I mean.”

 

Echo shrugs, bending to pick up their jacket and scabbard. They drape the jacket over their shoulders. 

 

Grand cups his hands around the hard light sketch, pulling it so the design is larger. It takes a moment for Echo to recognize it. It's their sword, it's smooth blade obscured by what looks like circuitry, the well-worn handle replaced by a delicate-looking glove. 

 

“Well,” says Grand, “What do you think? I tried to marry the concepts of ferocity and grace. I, uh, I was watching you and I felt kind of…  _ inspired.” _

 

Echo looks from the sword design to Grand's face, lit from below by the hard light of his sketch. 

 

“How can I inspire you?” says Echo “You don’t even know me.”

 

Grand’s expression faltered. “But I-- I just meant, you know, that the life you lead is so  _ authentic,  _ you know? You live such a different life than the rest of us, and it's so… it's inspiring that you're out there every day, away from the mesh. And then watching you move right now, it was beautiful, it was like a dance, I-- I mean, this is just an initial sketch, really. It's whatever.”

 

“Grand,” says Echo, “I'm really not that special. Not the way you think of it anyway.”

 

“But you  _ are _ ,” says Grand emphatically, “You're-- I've never met anyone like you before. You're like… like... “ Grand gestures with his hand, leaving trails of light in the air as he searches for the words. “You're like the first time I made something.”

 

“I'm like something you  _ made _ ,” says Echo. 

 

“No!” says Grand hurriedly, “No, not like that, like-- the first time I made something, I mean,  _ really  _ made something that was my  _ own,  _ it felt like… I felt like something had moved through me and made this perfect, amazing thing, and I couldn't believe I was holding it in my hands, I...” Grand's voice softens and he drops his eyes. “I felt like I'd been touched by a Divine.”

 

Echo’s throat feels tight. “That's a lot to put on someone's shoulders.”

 

“I'm not putting it on your shoulders,” says Grand, “You're putting it on mine. And I'm more than happy to accept that weight.”

 

Echo looks down. The small sketch of the sword spins lazily in Grand's hands. It's pretty, in its own way. The circuitry that runs along the length of it loops gracefully down to the point of the blade. 

 

They lick their lips. “So what do you plan on doing. With the design I mean.”

 

Grand's fingers twitch. “I guess that depends on what you think of it.”

 

“It's,” they hesitate, “Can I make a suggestion?”

 

Grand looks at them through his lashes. “Absolutely.”

 

Echo reaches for Grand's hands, placing their hands on his and slotting their fingers together. Grand's breath hitches. Slowly, they pull back Grand's hands, making the design larger, so the interwoven circuitry is more visible. 

 

“It's beautiful--”

 

“Thank you,” says Grand. 

 

“But it's not exactly practical,” continues Echo/. “I’ve seen you make things that are both, so I know this is in your wheelhouse.”

 

“You think my designs are beautiful?” says Grand. 

 

His voice wavers a little at the end, something Echo only notices because of how close they are to one another. 

 

“You must have had that said to you a million times,” says Echo.

 

“No, but--” Grand’s hands tremble a little under Echo's. “ _ You  _ think my designs are beautiful.”

 

“I-- yes,” says Echo, because it's too late for them to back out of it now. 

 

They're close enough to Grand that the fabric of his shirt brushes against them as Grand inhales sharply. 

 

“Well, I… thank you,” says Grand. 

 

He's looking at them very intently, his cheeks a little flushed. Sunlight filters through the thick branches above and catches on his dark eyelashes. 

 

Echo swallows. “So. I think I have an idea. For your design here.”

 

Grand's gaze drops to where their joined hands surround the design. “Right.”

 

They pull apart the design together over the course of the afternoon, sitting under the shade of the trees on the cool grass. Grand takes their suggestions surprisingly well, and starts to leave more conversational gaps for their words to fit into. Something about the design still isn’t  _ right _ though.

 

Grand sighs. “It's always harder with something I don't  _ know,  _ you know?”

 

“You've seen a sword before,” says Echo, “You're looking at mine right now.”

 

Grand waves a hand. “Looking is different to feeling. It's like designing a mech without ever getting in a cockpit.”

 

“So let me show you,” says Echo. 

 

“What,” says Grand. 

 

Echo stands, offering a hand to Grand. Grand stares at their hand for a moment before he accepts, letting Echo pull him off the ground, bringing their bodies quite a bit closer than Echo had been expecting. 

 

They don't step back. 

 

Neither does Grand. 

 

There's no sound in the clearing apart from the faint hum of the node. 

 

“Here,” says Echo. 

 

Echo presses their body against Grand's, their chest to his back, putting their sword into his hand and adjusting his grip. Grand follows their lead easily, changing his stance with the motion of Echo's body. 

 

“See?” murmurs Echo, “it's the way it  _ feels  _ in your hand, light but solid.”

 

“Right,” says Grand. 

 

His voice is soft, but they can feel the rumble of it where their chest is pressed against Grand's back. The neon plaid shirt he's wearing feels soft under Echo's cheek as they hook their chin over his shoulder to check his grip. 

 

“You've got it,” says Echo, “How does it feel?”

 

Grand turns his head, their faces inches away from each other. 

 

“Good,” says Grand. “It feels good.”

 

Grand licks his lips and Echo's eyes track the motion. 

 

“Grand--” they start to say. 

 

“Hey guys!” calls Gig, “We're back! Where are you guys anyway?”

 

Echo springs backward. Grand takes a stumbling step forward, away from Echo. He looks from Echo to the sword, then awkwardly holds it out to them. 

 

“Uh, thanks,” says Echo. 

 

“ _ There  _ you guys are!” says Gig. He turns back, raising his voice. “Hey, Even, they're over here!”

 

“Yes, I see that,” says Even, “Anything happen while we were away?”

 

Grand clears his throat a few times. “Nope. Just, you know, working on some new designs.”

 

“And watching the node,” says Echo. 

 

“And watching the node, exactly,” says Grand. 

 

“What kind of designs?” says Gig. 

 

He peers around them both, to where they'd been sitting. 

 

Grand waves a hand. “Oh, you know. Bits and pieces. I mean, you know me. Hey, Even, do you need a hand with those samples?”

 

“Uh, sure,” says Even.

 

Grand follows Even away, past their tents and out of sight. Gig stays, fingers twitching at his sides as he looks around the clearing. Echo wonders what his eye is picking up, if it can put movements to the pressed-down grass where they and Grand had been standing together, if it can detect the residue body heat from Grand's hands on their skin. 

 

“So today was okay?” says Gig. 

 

“Yeah,” says Echo, trying to keep their voice casual, “yeah, it was fine.” They pause, trying to think of something else to say. “How was sample collecting?”

 

“Great!” says Gig brightly, “Here--”

 

A light flickers from their eye, forming a small projection of Gig's hands, holding up leaves and flowers and seed pods. Gig flicks through them fast, much faster than Echo can make sense of.

 

“You should show Even, or give it to him for his records, or whatever,” says Echo. 

 

“He already has a record of them,” says Gig, still flicking through images, “this is just my recording.”

 

“If he recorded it then why did you have to?”

 

Gig frowns. “Because that's my job. I'm here to record everything, at all times.”

 

Right. They knew that. A constant stream on them, one of the reasons they'd honestly considered a longer sentence rather than accepting the mission. And then they'd had to sign all those agreements - agreements about streaming, agreements about privacy, agreements about personal licensing. 

 

In the quiet, they could hear Gig's eye whirring. 

 

They sheathed their sword, tapping their fingertips on the hilt a few times. Gig's eye tracked the movement. 

 

“Actually, can you not?”

 

Gig blinked. “Not what?”

 

“Not,” they made a sweeping feature at him, “you know.”

 

“Oh,” said Gig, smiling sheepishly as he turned his gaze towards the trees. “Sorry. I guess I forget that some people don't like being on. Even Grand gets weird about it sometimes.”

 

They think back to Gig hovering outside of Grand's tent, waiting for them to pass. They press their tongue to the roof of their mouth, trying to tamp down on the flush in their cheeks. 

 

“Don't you get tired of being online like that?”

 

Gig hums. “It’s easier since the stream suppressor went in. Plus I was on a lot before anyway, with the channel. I grew up on it, you know?”

 

“I guess.”

 

The grass under Gig's feet makes a soft rustling sound as he rocks back and forth on his heels. 

 

“I can, uh, not record you so much if you want?”says Gig, “Like, I'll still have to get you some of the time, or they'll be on at me about not keeping a proper record, but I can, uh. Divert footage elsewhere. If you want, that is.”

 

“I didn't think you could do that,” said Echo. 

 

“The camera’s not as truthful as people like to believe,” says Gig with a wink, “and besides. I'm not in the business of streaming people who'd rather be private.”

 

“Then what are you in the business of?” 

 

“Safety,” says Gig, distractedly, looking back towards Even and Grand. 

 

Even's waving them both over. 

 

“The node’s initial readings are done,” says Even, “looks like this one's going to take another three weeks or so.”

 

Echo shrugs. Three weeks in a peaceful valley. That seems fine, if a little dull. 

 

It's a lot dull, actually. They keep catching Grand  _ looking  _ at the out of the corner of their eye but whenever they look at him he looks away. They probably would have snapped at him by now, but whenever they open their mouth to ask what the  _ hell  _ his problem is, Gig pops up, dragging Grand away to check something on the node or talking about his most recent check-in with Myriad or asking them how they're doing. 

 

It takes a few days of that before Echo's feet start to itch. 

 

“I think I might head out today,” they say over breakfast, “check out the surroundings, see what the terrain ahead is like.”

 

Even nods. “You want company?”

 

“I-- sure, I guess,” says Echo. 

 

“Oh, can I come?” says Gig, “I need footage of new stuff.”

 

Echo shrugs. “Sure.”

 

Gig beams at them. “Great!”

 

“What's great?” says Grand, snapping out of his usual morning daze.

 

“I’m heading out with Echo to get some new footage,” says Gig.

 

“Sounds great,” says Grand. “When do we head out?”

 

Echo blinks. “Someone has to stay back here with the node.”

 

“I can stay,” Even offers, “I got a good enough look at the terrain when I was collecting samples.”

 

Echo nods, turning to Gig and Grand. “Head out in fifteen?”

 

They nod, Grand still blinking awake as Gig scampers off the collect his things. He comes back with Grand’s as well, holding Grand’s coat out to him as Grand finishes the last of his coffee.

 

“So,” says Gig, “Where to?”

 

Echo pauses. They hadn’t really thought much about it. Grand has a hard light version of the map spreading out from between his hands, and Echo points to one of the smaller mountains -- not the one they’d been thinking of when they’d thought they were going alone - that one probably wouldn’t be suitable for Gig and Grand, - but this one was tall enough to feel daring without putting them in too much danger. They hope.

 

Gig nods. “Cool. I should be able to get some great views from up there.”

 

“How far away is it?” says Grand.

 

“It’s about a half hour walk, I think,” says Gig. “We’ll walk there, climb up, climb down, and walk back in time for dinner rations.”

 

Grand makes a face.

 

“They taste better when you’re hungry,” says Echo.

 

“They could hardly taste worse,” Grand mutters.

 

Echo ignores him, waving to Even as they head out.

 

“Watch out for each other,” says Even.

 

Echo fights the urge to roll their eyes.

 

“Bye Even!” Gig calls, “See you tonight!”

 

The terrain is fairly even underfoot now that they’re in the valley, only starting the slope gently upwards as they get closer to their destination. The low plant covering the ground felt soft underfoot, patches of small, purple flowers scattered across it. The plant covered less as they picked their way upwards. It was still fairly easy going, at least for the first quarter. After that, Grand began to fall a little behind and Gig stayed with him.

 

“Hey Echo,” says Gig, “how about a break?”

 

They sigh. “Sure.”

 

The terrain ahead is much steeper, the rocks taking on a more jagged look in-between twisting trees. It makes sense to take a break here where things are a bit flatter before they press on.  _ If _ the other two  _ want _ to press on.

 

They wait for Grand and Gig to catch up to them. Gig seems like he’s managing okay, wiping at the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead with the front of his tank top. Echo looks away, catching sight of Grand’s red face.

 

“If this is too much for you, you should head back,” says Echo.

 

“It’s not too much for me,” says Grand, sounding out of breath.

 

“I’m just saying, this isn’t part of the mission,” says Echo. “If this is too much, just go back down and Gig and I will meet up with you later.”

 

Grand stands up straighter. “I think that’s enough break for me. I’m going to keep moving.”

 

Echo sighs. “Grand--”

 

Grand’s already on his way up the mountain, moving faster than he was before, pulling himself up by the rocks. He slips a little before righting himself, catching hold of a nearby branch. He glances back at them, looking very smug for someone who almost fell flat on his face.

 

“Well?” he calls back to them, “Are you coming or what?”

 

Echo rolls their eyes. They pick their way up carefully, making sure to keep Gig and Grand in their line of sight. Gig, for his part, seems to be taking his cues from them, following after their path carefully, checking each rock or branch before he puts his weight on it fully.

 

“You’ve done this before?” says Echo.

 

Gig grins. “Kind of? I’ve spent a lot of time crawling around places on Gumption’s Gambit you wouldn’t believe--”

 

Grand’s yelp cuts Gig off, and they both turn to look towards him. He’s holding onto a large rock and precariously balanced on another that’s moving under his feet. As they watch, it slips a little further, coming loose from the side of the mountain. Grand squeezes his eyes shut.

 

Echo rushes forward without thinking, scrambling towards him and wrapping their arm around his waist. With their other hand they draw their sword, stabbing it into the dirt as the rock slides from beneath their feet. They bounce for a moment, inertia and Grand’s body weight grinding them against the mountain side. There’s a sharp burst of pain in their leg and they cry out, biting their lip to muffle the tail end of the sound.

 

They can hear Grand’s breathing, ragged, in their ear. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

 

“Are you both okay?” calls Gig.

 

“No,” says Grand.

 

“We’re fine,” says Echo, “We just--”

 

They let out a hiss of pain as they try to move their leg. When they look down, they can see blood through the tear in their leggings. Unfortunately, Grand follows their gaze.

 

“Uh, Gig, Echo’s hurt,” says Grand, panic rising in his voice.

 

“I’m fine,” Echo grits out.

 

They push themselves up into a sitting position, pressing their lips together as the fabric of their leggings touches their wound. Grand hovers annoyingly next to them, hands fluttering.

 

“Yikes,” says Gig, as he gets closer.

 

“It’s  _ fine _ ,” says Echo. “You don’t need to fuss.”

 

Gig holds up his hands. “No fussing I swear, just some quick first aid to get you back to camp.”

 

He gets to work before Echo can really protest, handing Grand items from his pack to hold. Grand’s hands shake a little. Echo sees Gig reach forward and squeeze Grand’s shoulder before he moves over to Echo’s leg, carefully rolling up their legging. It’s really not that bad at all, a cut from one of the larger rocks surrounded by a grazed area. Gig inhales sharply through his teeth. 

 

Echo sighs. “I’ve had worse, believe me.”

 

“I believe it,” says Gig. “Doesn’t mean this doesn’t sting though.”

 

“It’s  _ fine _ ,” says Echo.

 

“Sure,” says Gig, “I’m going to clean it up a little, put a bandage on it so it doesn’t get dust in it on our way back down, all that jazz, okay?”

 

“Fine,” says Echo.

 

Gig begins to carefully clean the cut on their leg, his hands steady and sure. His motions are practised, less erratic than how he normally moves through the world. His calm is at odds with Grand, who's hunched in on himself, eyes darting to Echo's leg and then away. 

 

“I would have thought you’d have more an aversion to blood,” says Echo. 

 

Gig shrugs. “I was with paramedics for a lot of my streams. You pick up a thing or two.”

 

“You were?” says Echo.

 

Gig huffs a laugh. “Oh, yeah, I guess you never saw them, huh? I mean, I didn’t put that kind stuff on  _ stream _ , but when you’re following people doing dangerous jobs, sometimes stuff goes wrong no matter how careful everyone’s being. And you,” he adds pointedly, “weren’t being particularly careful.”

 

“It’s not my job to be careful,” says Echo.

 

“No, it’s your job to help protect us,” says Gig, “that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t also be careful. You’re an important part of this.”

 

“Right,” says Echo, “I guess it would disrupt the narrative of your stream to have me disappear.”

 

Gig pauses from where he’s wrapping the bandage around Echo’s leg. “The narrative of a stream doesn't take precedent over  _ you. _ ”

 

Echo isn’t sure what to say to  _ that _ , so they stay quiet, ignoring the tight feeling in their chest and watching Gig’s steady hands as he finishes bandaging their leg.

 

“There,” says Gig, “can you walk?”

 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” says Echo, ignoring the throb in their leg as they take a step.

 

“Well go slow, at least,” says Gig, “if not for you, then at least do it for my piece of mind?”

 

Echo snorts, but they do move carefully down the mountainside. They can feel Grand and Gig's eyes on them as they go, a prickle on the back on their neck. When they look back, Grand is looking at the ground, with Gig's arm firmly around his side as they walk. Echo lets out a breath through their nose. At least they don't have to worry about Grand tripping again. 

 

They make it back down without further incident. Echo winces, flexing their ankle as they wait for Gig and Grand to finish having a drink. 

 

“You okay?” says Gig, “You can lean on me if you need to.”

 

“I don't need to,” snaps Echo.

 

“Sorry,” says Gig quickly, looking down and away.

 

Echo sighs. “It's… fine. I'm fine, okay? I don't need you and Grand to carry me back to camp, or anything like that, okay?”

 

“Okay,” says Gig. He pauses. “But, we would, if you wanted us to.”

 

He moves towards Grand before Echo can say anything in response. Echo watches him brush the hair out from Grand's eyes. Grand smiles up at Gig from where he's slouched against a rock. Echo looks away, towards the horizon. They have to scan for danger. They need to be more focused. 

 

They make it back to camp. Echo manages to mostly brush Even's worries aside, although he does insist on looking over their ankle. Gig and Grand hover, talking over each other as they attempt to describe what happened before Even sends them to get water from the cart. 

 

“Sorry about them,” Echo mumbles. 

 

Even smiles. “They're just worried about you. I'm sure they think they're helping.”

 

Echo snorts. “Probably.”

 

Even's face goes serious. “They care about you a lot, you know.”

 

Echo looks away, fingers plucking at the grass. “Yeah, I'm sure I'm great on stream.”

 

“If it makes you uncomfortable, you should talk to Gig about that,” says Even. 

 

Echo makes a face. “Yeah, he said something about how he could divert footage.”

 

Even hugs a laugh. “Wouldn't be the first time.”

 

Echo looks up at him, but Even is still carefully wrapping fresh bandages around their ankle. 

 

“What?”

 

Even glances at them before looking back down at his work. “You didn't wonder why they couldn't find footage of your, ah, extracurricular activities?”

 

They had wondered about that as a matter of fact, why the people that selected them for this mission only referenced the crime they were jailed for and not the myriad of others that they were implicated in. They'd always just assumed it was something they'd have to pay back at a later date. 

 

“He never said,” says Echo quietly. 

 

The corner of Even's lips quirk upwards. “He's not really the type. I asked him about it, before we went in for testing.”

 

“And?”

 

Even shrugs. “He said he felt like he could trust you.” He sets their leg down gently. “He was  right to do it. None of the other candidates they were considering were half as good as you.”

 

“Water!” says Gig, holding a canteen above his head as he walks towards them. 

 

Even smiles. “Thank you.”

 

Grand fidgets with his shirt sleeves. “How's your ankle?”

 

“Fine,” says Echo, “Just like I  _ told  _ you.”

 

Gig holds the water out to them. “Here.”

 

“Thanks,” says Echo. 

 

They force themselves to look away from him, taking a long drink. The walk back left them very warm, and they're only really feeling it now, a flare of heat in their cheeks.

 

Dinner that night is quiet. Every time Echo looks at Grand they think of his body pressed against theirs as they went through their sword training motions and again, rougher, as Grand clung to them on the mountainside. Every time they look at Gig, they think of how quickly he turned his camera eye away from them when they'd asked, and of his steady hands on their ankle. 

 

When Even suggests Echo skip their watch rotation that night and turn in early after the events of the day, Echo doesn't protest nearly as much as they would have normally. Grand and Gig go to their own respective tents soon after they do. The wind carries their soft goodnights to each other into Echo’s tent.

 

They fall asleep listening to the crackle of the campfire outside their tent. The absence of Gig and Grand's murmured voices makes their chest ache. 

 

\--

 

The others make Echo rest the next day. He doesn’t  _ say _ anything, but any time it looks like they’re going to do anything more strenuous than walking from the tents to their campfire Even’s face takes on a heavy, concerned look, and Grand and Gig stand up, as though they’re expecting Echo to fall over. They’ve never seen people make such a fuss over such a small injury.

 

Even takes Grand with him the next day, apparently deciding that Echo’s leg is healed enough to only need one minder. He tells Echo to take it easy, giving Gig a significant look as he and Grand head out. Gig nods, trying his best to look serious.

 

Echo waits for Even to disappear into the treeline before they turn to Gig. “If go through some sword exercises, and you going to tell on me to Even?”

 

“I won’t if you let me check out your ankle first to see if it’s okay,” says Gig, “if there’s still swelling you shouldn’t be putting that much pressure on it.”

 

Echo sighs, sitting down and rolling up their legging. Gig crouches, his fingers gently feeling at the skin of Echo’s ankle. Echo flinches, just a little, when Gig touches too close to where the cut is under the bandage.

 

Gig looks up sharply, his hands sliding away from their ankle to cradle their foot. “Sorry.”

 

“S’fine,” says Echo, “you can, um. Keep going.”

 

Gig swallows, his gaze dropping back down. His touch is even lighter this time, Echo can barely feel the whisper of it through the bandage. Echo doesn’t remember anybody being this gentle with them since they were very young. 

 

Gig clears his throat. “Uh, I think it should be okay? As long as you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” says Echo, trying to sound nonchalant.

 

It feels good to run through their drills despite the faint twinge of their ankle, keeping their movement slow. Gig putters around the camp, chattering to himself. His voice fades into the background of Echo’s awareness, an oddly peaceful sound.

 

Gig only interrupts them once, to ask if they want anything to eat, holding out one of the ration packs in their direction. His eye is gone, and Gig sheepishly covers it with one hand.

 

“Sorry,” says Gig, “I wanted some additional aerial footage.”

 

Echo shrugs. “It’s fine.”

 

“I can, um,” Gig pats his various pockets, “Grand made me an eyepatch, I have it somewhere, I think.”

 

“Seriously, it’s fine. You can wear the eyepatch if you want but that,” they gesture to Gig’s empty socket, “doesn’t really bother me that much.”

 

Gig’s face lights up. “Really? That’s great because -- don’t tell Grand -- that eyepatch is kind of itchy.”

 

Echo huffs a laugh. “Then you  _ definitely _ don’t have to wear it.”

 

Gig laughs too, a bright sound that echoes through the clearing.

 

As they eat, Gig narrates the view from his cybereye, the sight valley laid out beneath it in the afternoon light and the small sights it swoops down to see -- a new species of beetle, crawling through the grass, a stream up ahead of them curling around the mossy entrance of a cave, a small bird hopping through the undergrowth.

 

Grand and Even return just after Gig’s eye does. Grand looks tired, sitting down heavily next to Gig and leaning his head on Gig’s knees. Gig smiles down at him, wordlessly offering Grand his canteen.

 

“I was thinking tomorrow,” says Echo casually, “that I’d go check out that stream that’s up ahead of us.”

 

“What stream?” says Even.

 

“Gig spotted one today with his eye,” says Echo, “it’s not too far away, and it might be good to assess what our fresh water sources are if we’re going to stay in this area for a little while.”

 

Even nods.

 

“You want company?” says Gig.

 

They shrug. “Sure.”

 

“Great!” says Grand, “Sounds great!”

 

Echo blinks at him. They didn’t think Grand would  _ want _ to do two scouting days in a row. But then again, they suppose Gig already said he was coming along.

 

“Great!” says Gig, grinning at them both.

 

Grand ducks his head, attempting to hide his own grin. Echo resists the urge to rolls their eyes, pressing their lips together.

 

\--

 

They head out from the camp mid-morning. It’s easy going -- the terrain on the way to the stream is mostly flat, and it’s not long before the stream comes into sight, curving around the mouth of the cave Gig described. It flows out of the mouth of the cave, hugging the curve of the mountain before it trails off lazily into the valley.

 

They carefully test a sample of the water before they take a drink, and Grand and Gig do the same.

 

Echo walks away from them a little, examining the mouth of the cave. The stream flows into the darkness and out of sight. They can hear the echo of the water bouncing off the cave walls. 

 

Gig moves to stand next to them, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I wonder what the water source is.”

 

Echo hums. ”Only one way to find out.”

 

“Oh no,” says Grand, “No way am I going in there. I mean, uh, none of us should. It’s probably structurally unsafe.”

 

Echo can hear the whir of Gig’s eye. “Looks pretty safe to me. You can stay out here if you want. We won’t be long.”

 

Grand immediately straightens. “Well if you’re  _ both _ going, I  _ guess _ I should come along.”

 

Echo shrugs.

 

Grand’s shoulder is warm, when he moves to stand beside them. The heat of it stays against their skin, even as they head into the cave. 

 

Gig and Grand follow them, the sound of their footsteps multiplying on the echo. As soon as they round the first corner of the cave, they’re plunged into darkness. Echo stops short.

 

“Did either of you bring a torch?”

 

“Um, no?” says Gig, sounding a little sheepish.

 

“No,” says Grand, “but I do have this.”

 

The lines of light Grand sketches with trail from his fingers as he draws a shape in the air, tracing the thin shape over and over until the light builds to something they can actually see by.

 

“It only works if I’m holding it, so I’ll have to go first,” says Grand.

 

“I can go last,” says Gig, “I have night vision.”

 

Echo frowns. The cave is quiet, and there haven’t been any bones or scrapings against the walls that would suggest anything lives inside it. Still, they don’t like the idea of Gig and Grand on the outside, first in line from any kind of attack, and they especially don’t like having to rely on the other two for their vision.

 

Gig fidgets, the light from Grand’s hand shining on his cybereye as he pulls it out. “Or I can go in the middle and send my eye to the back? We can track out path that way too, just in case.”

 

The idea of an eye floating behind them as they walk is strange, but no stranger than anything else Gig does. They nod.

 

Gig grins. “Great!”

 

He lets go of his eye, and it floats behind them, hovering around head height. Its whirring sound bounces off the cave walls, making it sound a little like the cave is full of bees.

 

“Right,” says Echo, gesturing for Grand to move along.

 

They follow the stream deeper into the cave. It’s hard to see, mostly because Grand keeps swinging the light from wall to wall, making their shadows on the ground switch and flicker in odd ways.

 

“Just hold it  _ steady _ ,” says Echo, for what feels like the eighth time.

 

“I  _ am _ ,” says Grand, swinging the light again, “I just want to check-- oh! Ah hah!”

 

Grand moves towards the wall to his right, holding his hand high up. The wall looks strange there, indented in an odd way, and when Echo gets closer they can see the marks on the wall, made by a more purposeful hand than the simple motion of the stream. Geometric shapes with small symbols running around the outside of them, although it’s not any language Echo recognises.

 

Gig’s eye flits across the carvings before moving back to hover behind them. Gig reaches out a finger to trace along one of the shapes.

 

“Don’t touch it,” says Echo.

 

Gig draws his hand back quickly and looks over at them. “What? Why not?”

 

“Because touching things we don’t know anything about is how we get into trouble,” says Echo.

 

The light fades, and they look back to see Grand heading further in. He reaches for the wall ahead of them, pulling at part of the wall.

 

Echo huffs a breath, moving towards them. “Grand, did you hear what I just said?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” says Grand, still pulling at part of the wall.

 

Now that Echo’s closer they can see it’s a rock that’s fallen from above, covering part of the wall carvings.

 

“Grand, I said don’t touch it,” says Echo, annoyance seeping into their voice.

 

“I know, but I just need to,” he grunts with effort, “move this, so I can see it.”

 

“Uh, guys?” says Gig, “Grand maybe you should leave that.”

 

There’s a grating, creaking noise, loud enough for them to hear it over their own echos, and they see what Gig’s augmented eyes must have seen before their’s- a large crack, stemming from the rock Grand is trying to shift.

 

“Grand--” snaps Echo, putting a hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him backwards.

 

Grand shakes them off. “No, I almost have it--”

 

There’s another grating noise, loud enough this time that even Grand notices it, stepping back as he looks up at the wall.

 

“Uh,” says Grand.

 

The grating noise gets louder as smaller cracks begin to splinter out across the wall. Smaller rocks shake loose from the wall, splashing into the stream.

 

“I, uh,” says Grand.

 

The ground underneath their feet begins to shake, and Echo grabs the back of Grand’s shirt, pulling him backwards just in time to avoid being hit by a shower of rocks and dirt.

 

“Time to go?” says Gig.

 

Echo grabs Gig’s wrist with their other hand and turns. The cave rumbles, and Echo can feel their heartbeat thudding in their chest and they pull Gig and Grand close to them, pulling them flat against the far wall as the mountain shakes around them.

 

The light from Grand’s hands flickers and goes out, leaving them in the pitch darkness, hearing the rocks fall around them. It probably only lasts a few moments but it feels like  _ hours. _ They can feel Grand tremble, where he’s pulled against them. Gig presses his face down into the crook of their neck, his breath hot and quick against their skin.

 

Everything goes quiet, almost eerie after such a loud sound.

 

Echo swallows, wincing at the grit in their mouth. “You guys okay?”

 

“Yeah,” says Gig, voice shaking a little.

 

“Grand?” says Echo, after a moment.

 

Grand clears his throat. “Of course.”

 

“Can we get some light?” says Echo.

 

“Oh,” says Grand, “Right. Right.”

 

The faint glow doesn’t provide much illumination, but it at least helps them asses the damage. Rocks have fallen either side of the cave, leaving either a small hole for them to attempt to crawl through to go deeper into the mountain or a precarious-looking pile for them to move to get out of the mountain.

 

Grand’s arm has a large scratch along it that thankfully doesn’t look too deep, but other than that he seems to have mostly escaped unscathed. Gig’s shoulders tremble a little, which Echo puts down to shock. 

 

Grand reaches out a hand and touches Gig lightly on the cheek. “Your eye…”

 

Gig covers the hole with one hand. “Oh! Uh, no, it’s fine, it got out before anything came down. I, um, I’ll send it back to Even so he knows what happened.”

 

Echo nods. “Good.”

 

His eye seems a little watery, but there’s still a lot of dust in the air. Echo almost remarks on it anyway, but is distracted as Grand pulls away from them to stand in front of the rock pile, hands on his hips.

 

“I can get us out,” says Grand.

 

“Don’t touch anything,” says Echo, “you don’t know what could send it tumbling down on us.”

 

Grand waves a dismissive hand. “Sure I do, it’s all engineering -- here.”

 

He bends slightly, tugging at a rocks that’s half-way down.

 

“Grand,” says Echo, stepping towards Grand, “Wait--”

 

As they step towards him, the rock Grand is pulling at gives way, sending him stumbling backwards into Echo. The stack of rocks that had been sitting on top of the rock Grand had moved shift, sending a cloud of dust and small chips of rocks into the air. Gig, who had managed to avoid being stepped on by Grand, covers his face with his hands, tripping over his own feet and bumping against the cave wall. 

 

Echo stays still, gripping Grand's shoulder tight as they listen to the cave around them settle again. They cough - the dust makes the air taste musty.

 

“What were you  _ thinking _ ?” they snap at Grand, “you could have gotten us killed! I told you to stop!”

 

“I didn't hear you,” says Grand, “and even if I  _ did,  _ you're not in charge.”

 

“When we're in this kind of situation I am,” says Echo.

 

Grand straightens his shoulders. “I'm an  _ artist _ , not a soldier to be commanded.”

 

“So because you're an  _ artist  _ that means you can't listen to reason?” says Echo, “What kind of--”

 

“Guys, come on,” says Gig weakly, “let's not do this now.”

 

“This seems like as good of a time as any,” says Echo. 

 

“Yeah,” says Grand, “and this way you can't use sword training or whatever as an excuse to avoid talking to me.”

 

“What did you just say to me?” says Echo.

 

“You heard what I said,” says Grand, a haughty tone creeping into his voice. 

 

“I have  _ never  _ backed down from a fight in my  _ life,  _ I've been trying to give you space you absolute,  _ pompous-- _ ”

 

“ _ Pompous _ ?!”

 

“Guys,” Gig tries again, “come on, we--” 

 

He breaks off, coughing, but Echo's too angry to be concerned right this second. 

 

“ _ You _ heard what  _ I  _ said,” said Echo. 

 

“It's not being pompous if you're really that good,” says Grand. 

 

Echo throws their hands in the air, turning away from him.

 

“Oh, you’re going to give me the silent treatment, that’s a  _ great  _ leadership quality,” says Grand.

 

“No, I’m looking for structural weaknesses that  _ you _ might have caused that I need to be aware of,” says Echo.

 

_ And forcing myself to not slap you _ , Echo adds mentally.

 

Silence falls over the three of them. The rocks seem to be holding and the water of the stream is flowing through the rocks so at least they won’t drown before Even reaches them, which are maybe the only positives about their current situation. The only sound is Gig’s occasional deep breath from where he’s slumped against the wall.

 

“Gig?” says Grand.

 

It's the waver in his voice that makes Echo look over to where Gig’s sitting. He's turned away from them both, his shoulders shaking. Grand crouches down next to him, moving to put a hand on Gig's shoulder, and Gig flinches away from his touch. Echo takes a step towards him, and Grand looks up at them. 

 

“Gig,” says Echo, careful to keep their voice steady. 

 

Gig looks up at them both, tears trickling down his cheeks. His wipes at his face, taking a breath and visibly trying to pull himself together. Grand puts a hand on his arm and Gig's face crumples, a fresh wave of sobs shaking his shoulders. Grand shoots Echo a panicked look. 

 

“Gig,” says Echo again, “what's-- are you hurt?”

 

“No,” says Gig, taking a shuddering breath, “This shouldn't be happening. They told me-- They said--”

 

“What shouldn't be happening?” says Grand, “I'm sure between me and Echo we can figure it out.”

 

Gig gives a cold, wet laugh. “I'm not supposed to be able to feel… but the lichen--Myriad  _ did  _ say...”

 

“Not supposed to be able to feel what?” says Echo. 

 

“Sad,” says Gig. 

 

Grand flinches back and Gig's shoulders curl further inwards. 

 

“What do you  _ mean  _ you can't feel sad?” says Grand, “I've seen you be sad.”

 

“Not since the stream suppressor,” says Gig.

 

“Side effects,” murmurs Echo. They both look up at them. “The other morning, when you were… you knew exactly what the side effect was, didn't you?”

 

“I knew going in,” says Gig. He sounds  _ miserable _ . “They told me it was fully tested and guaranteed. Full broadcasting and no feelings of sadness ever again.”

 

“You let them block out a whole  _ feeling _ ?” says Grand. 

 

“Only a bad one,” says Gig, “It’s a win-win for me, really.”

 

“But it's-- they're your  _ feelings _ ,” says Grand, “You can't just… you need them.”

 

“You might but I don't.” Gig gasps, trying to catch his breath, “This sucks. I can't stream this.”

 

“I'd rather you didn't anyway,” says Echo. 

 

“How can you think about streaming at a time like this?” snaps Grand. 

 

“Because that's why I'm here!” says Gig. He wipes at his eyes, looking down at the rocky ground. “I'm here for coverage, and to make sure you guys are being safe, and I can't do that if I'm feeling so fucking sad all the time, can I?”

 

Grand looks away to, his eyes sliding away from Gig and Echo to look at the far wall. “I guess not.”

 

Echo waits for a long moment, making sure they're not about to start up arguing again before they step forward, crouching in front of Gig. They put their hands on his knees, and he looks up at them. 

 

Gig puts his hand quickly over his empty socket. “Sorry.”

 

They bat his hand away. “It's fine. Let me see.” When Gig doesn't move his hand, they add. “I want to check if you're hurt.”

 

“Nothing's malfunctioning,” says Gig. 

 

“So me checking shouldn't take long,” says Echo.

 

Gig huffs a breath. “Fine.”

 

Gig slowly removes his hand. There's no visible damage, no scraped skin or sparking circuitry. He's stopped crying, at least. His bio eye looks a little red and the empty socket where his cybereye would be is a little puffy, but that doesn't seem like too much of a warning sign. They run their fingertips lightly over his cheeks. 

 

“So,” says Gig, “what's the verdict?”

 

Gig's voice shakes a little, but he doesn't pull away. Echo doesn't move their hands, their thumbs brushing along Gig's cheekbones. 

 

Echo licks their dry lips. “You seem fine to me. But I don't know anything about tech, so.”

 

“I know a little bit,” says Grand. 

 

Echo flicks their gaze to Grand. His hands are twisted in his lap, flexing as though he's trying to stop himself from reaching out. Echo lets go of Gig, leaning back a little to give Grand room. Grand doesn't move. 

 

“You know more than a little bit,” says Gig, “I don't know why you pretend not to be so hooked in. If you weren't on the mesh we would never have met.” His eyes go glassy again, and Grand flinches.

 

“Stop it,” says Grand. 

 

“I'm not doing it on purpose!” says Gig.

 

“Hey,” says Echo sharply, “I'm not in there with you guys. Tell me what's happening.”

 

“Its-- he’s streaming memories,” Grand grates out. “Gig, I mean it, stop it.”

 

Gig pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I can't, okay? I can't.”

 

“Think about something else then,” says Echo. They think about the mindfulness exercises they did as part of the rehabilitation programme. “Don't think about the past, focus on what's happening here and now.”

 

They take Gig's hands and, after a pause, Grand's as well, tangling all of their hands together. Grand frowns at Echo. 

 

“Focus on me and Grand right now, not the past, not what you're feeling, focus on us.”

 

Gig squeezes his eyes shut. “I can't--”

 

“Yes you  _ can,” _ says Echo, “you don't need your stream suppressor to work in order to be here with us. You're already here with us.”

 

Gig takes a few shaky breaths. “I'm here with you.”

 

“Yeah,” breathes Grand, “Just focus on us.”

 

“Just focus on you,” says Gig quietly. 

 

His hands stop trembling under Echo's. Echo moves to pull back but Gig tightens his grip, clutching at their’s and Grand's hands. 

 

“No just yet,” says Gig, “please?”

 

Grand nods. Echo shifts. They don't want to intrude on whatever romantic moment Gig is apparently trying to have with Grand. Gig leans forward, resting his head on their shoulder. They tense under him, looking wide-eyed at Grand. Grand gives them a similar look back, which is no help. 

 

“Gig,” says Grand softly. 

 

Gig sits up sharply. “Right, sorry, I'm sure you guys want to, um, I'll just…”

 

He starts to pull back, but this time it's Echo that tightens their grip. They want to make sure Gig's not going to sulk off to a corner to relapse into sadness. 

 

“We're fine where are,” says Echo, “right Grand?”

 

Grand nods. His thumb brushes Echos hand as he rubs it along the back of Gig's hand. 

 

Gig huffs a breath. “I'm fine. You guys don't need to hover over me, you can go back to, you know.”

 

“We were just  _ talking,” _ says Grand. 

 

“Please don't pull me into whatever weird jealousy thing you guys are working through right now,” says Echo, “I'm not trying to get in between you.”

 

Grand flushes. “I, uh-- we're not, uh--”

 

“I thought you two were--” says Gig at the same time.

 

Echo stares at them both for a moment. Laughter burbles up inside them. 

 

“You two idiots,” they manage. 

 

“What?” says Gig. 

 

“You're  _ in love with each other _ ,” says Echo, “I can't  _ believe  _ I have to spell it out for you like this.”

 

Gig goes bright pink, the flush on his cheeks spreading down his neck and under the low neckline of his tank top. Grand's blush is lighter, but his hands flutter awkwardly as he gestures. 

 

“I mean, I don't know what you're-- I just, what even  _ is  _ love, you know? And of course I-- I mean, we're good friends, and I care about Gig a lot but I, ah… Oh.”

 

Grand trails off as he looks at Gig. Gig looks down, biting his lip. Echo can feel his hands start trembling again. 

 

“Sorry,” says Gig, his voice cracking slightly. “I thought you already knew. And then, with Echo...”

 

“Yeah, well,” says Grand, “same to you.”

 

“Wait,” says Echo, “with me, what?”

 

Gig blinks at them. “Because we… you're really cool, you know? And I like you. And I  _ know  _ Grand likes you.”

 

“Okay,” says Echo slowly. 

 

“No, I mean.” Gig takes a breath. “We  _ like _ you. We  _ both  _ like you.”

 

Echo feels their face go hot. “Oh. You both… ?”

 

“Yeah,” says Grand. 

 

Gig nods, chewing on his bottom lip. 

 

“How did you both manage to come to  _ that  _ conclusion without realising you both liked  _ each other _ too,” says Echo. 

 

“I guess we got too distracted by you,” says Grand, his voice oddly earnest. 

 

“Well,” says Echo. Their throat feels tight. 

 

“Well,” says Grand. 

 

They pause, waiting for him to continue. Grand's blush deepens. 

 

“So,” says Gig, “uh, we've kind of just laid it out on the line. Do you, um.”

 

Echo's breath catches in their throat. “Oh. Uh. Yeah. I-- that sounds good. Really good.”

 

“Yeah?” says Gig, a wide smile blooming over his face. 

 

Echo grins back. “Yeah.”

 

Something warm unfurls in their chest as they look at Gig and Grand. This time they let the feeling spread.

 

Grand shifts on his knees, his shoulder brushing their's. They lean into him, just a little. That's allowed now, after all. Gig pushes off from against the wall, his body following their’s.

 

Echo touches Gig’s cheeks, gently at first brush of their fingertips turning into cupping his cheek as Gig leans into their touch. They can feel the puff of warm air on their wrist as Gig lets out a shaky exhale.

 

Grand is warm against their back as they lean forward, pressing their lips to Gig’s. He sighs into their mouth, letting Echo deepen the kiss, their hand sliding up to run through his hair. Gig’s hands are warm on the bare skin of their waist. They feel one of Gig’s hands slide off their body and onto Grand’s side, the fabric of Grand’s shirt bunches against their side as Gig slips his hand up Grand’s shirt. Grand’s breath hitches, and Echo grins against Gig’s mouth.

 

Gig sighs again, the sound of it going high-pitched as Echo nips at his lower lip. Echo reaches back blindly for Grand’s hand, tangling their fingers together and then bringing their joined hands in-between themself and Gig to palm Gig through his pants. Gig whines into their mouth, leaning forward to press his body against them.

 

Grand exhales deeply, shifting against them. Echo arches back a little, grinning as they feel Grand against them and at the sputtering sound he makes as the unexpected friction. They pull back from Gig, giving themselves a moment to admire his red-bitten lips in the low light, before they tilt their face up towards Grand.

 

They slide a hand up Grand’s back to press him closer, and Grand bites his lip, the flush off his cheeks deepening. Grand clutches at them as they kiss him, opening under their touch. They grind back against him and Grand moans, a loud sound in their small space. Grand pulls back, looking flustered. Echo can feel his chest heaving.

 

Echo means to lean back up to Grand, but then Gig’s lips are on their neck and they lose all train of thought. It’s even worse when Grand follows Gig’s lead, his teeth scraping on Echo’s collarbone in a way that makes them shudder as Gig sucks a bruise under their jaw. Their hands feel as though they’re everywhere on Echo’s body, teasing lightly over their chest and their stomach and between their thighs. They lean into the touch, tipping their head back to rest on Grand’s shoulder and letting their eyes flutter closed. Everything fades away, narrowing Echo’s awareness to the two of them.

 

Dimly, they register Gig pulling back and they frown, reaching for him.

 

“Oh,” says Gig, sounding out of breath, “I think--”

 

“Hello in there!”

 

Their eyes snap open.  _ Even _ .

 

“Hey, hi, hello!” calls Gig, “We’re in here!”

 

“Yes,” says Even, his voice muffled through the stone, “I figured that part out. Are you okay?”

 

“Just cuts and bruises!” says Echo, relieved that their voice sounds relatively steady.

 

“Grand?” says Even.

 

“I hurt my arm,” says Grand, holding the arm that has the cut on it up to the rocks as though Even can see.

 

“He’s fine,” says Echo, “What do you need us to do on our end?”

 

“Just stay where you are,” says Even, “I should be able to get you out in no time.”

 

“Okay,” says Echo.

 

They lean back against Grand without meaning to and quickly straighten themself, feeling their cheeks flush. “Sorry.”

 

“No, it’s fine, um,” Grand swallows, “you can, if you want.”

 

“If  _ you _ won’t use Grand as the comfiest chair here, I will,” says Gig cheerfully.

 

Echo laughs, letting themselves relax back down. Gig leans his head against their shoulder, his body pressed close to Grand. Grand gingerly places his hand on their leg, and they smile, covering his hand and tangling their fingers together.

 

“Being in a cave-in is great but I can’t wait until we get back to camp so I can go to  _ bed _ ,” says Gig.

 

Echo hums in agreement.

 

Grand shifts underneath them. “Do you guys mind, Even’s going to break through that wall  _ any minute _ .”

 

Echo presses their lips together to stifle a laugh. “He means to  _ sleep _ .”

 

Gig laughs, and Echo feels him tilt upward slightly to kiss Grand. They look up in time to catch the end of it, Grand flushed face and Gig’s bright smile. They shift in Grand’s lap, motions heavy and deliberate, and Grand gasps.

 

They lean up and press a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. “Maybe we’ll have time before we go to sleep. We’ll see.”

 

Gig huffs a laugh, and nuzzles his face into Grand’s flannel shirt. 

 

\--

 

They don’t actually end up doing anything that night. It’s later afternoon by the time Even’s mech manages to break through, its metal arms replacing the support of the rocks and giving them space to crawl through to escape. Even checks them over after they get back to camp, carefully cleaning the scratch on Grand’s arm and the other smaller cuts and scrapes they’d gotten.

 

If Even notices the way their hands linger on each other as they help check each other over, he doesn’t mention it.

 

They’re too tired to even be that hungry, quickly eating their dinner rations before collapsing into bed in their own tents. As they drift off, Echo wishes they’d had the foresight to pull Gig and Grand into their small tent, but that will have to be something they rectify when they wake up.

 

The campsite is quiet when they wake, the low line of light on the horizon more of a suggestion of dawn than the actual thing. Even is asleep by the campfire, his silver blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

 

Echo steps towards Gig’s tent, careful to keep their movements quiet so as not to wake Even. Gig is tangled in his blanket, one leg dangling over the side of his camp bed.

 

Echo lays a hand on his shoulder and Gig’s eyes snap open.

 

“What-”

 

Echo puts a finger to their lips and Gig falls silent, a grin spreading over his face.

 

_ Grand _ , mouths Gig.

 

Echo nods. And then, because they can, they lean down and press a quick kiss to Gig’s lips. Or, it’s  _ supposed _ to be quick, and then Gig  _ sighs _ , and the sound of it travels through Echo and settles, warm, in their chest, and they sink into the kiss a little too much for it to be considered quick.

 

Echo pulls Gig by the hand out of bed and towards Grand’s tent. They can hear Gig’s muffled laughter and they bite their lip. They creep into Grand’s tent, moving towards where he’s curled in his sleeping bag.

 

“Grand,” whispers Gig,  “Hey, Grand.”

 

Grand blinks up at them sleepily. “What--”

 

“Morning,” says Gig brightly, and leans down to kiss him.

 

Grand flails for a moment, his arms still inside the sleeping bag. Echo takes advantage of it, sitting down over him and straddling his lap, leaning over to lean on the extra space of the sleeping bag and trapping Grand’s hands inside it. He whines, the sound muffled a little by Gig’s mouth. 

 

Echo leans forward to whisper in Grand’s ear their lips brushing against his skin. “Shh. You’ll wake Even.”

 

Grand whines again, his hips arching up against them through the sleeping bag. Echo huffs a laugh, nipping at his skin as they move their hips back and forth, heat buzzing under their skin.

 

“Unfair,” mumbles Grand against Gig’s lips.

 

Gig hums. “You’re right.”

 

He leans over Grand to Echo, and Echo tilts their face to meet his, tangling their hand in Gig’s top to pull him up. Echo shifts back a little, pulling Gig onto Grand as well. They can feel Grand squirm under them as Gig’s hands slide around their waist, his fingers wiggling under their tight crop top.

 

They curl their fingers under the fabric, peeling it over their head before they pull Gig closer to them. Their fingers rucks up the fabric of his top as they slide a hand up his chest, and Gig shivers as their nails graze lightly over his nipple.

 

Echo slips as Grand shifts under them, trying to pull himself into a sitting position. Gig half-turns towards him and Echo leans closer to them, kissing them and drawing his attention away. Now that Grand’s sitting up the can see the bulge in the sleeping bag, the fabric pulled too tightly against it by the weight of their’s and Gig’s bodies for him to be able to get any relief himself.

 

They shift positions slightly, so that their thigh is between Gig’s leg. Gig’s eyes go wide, his breath stuttering as he grinds against them. Grand pauses in his struggle to get his hands out of the sleeping bag, his mouth slack as he watches the spreading flush down Gig’s neck.

 

Echo kisses Gig, a little rougher than before, cupping Gig’s cheek as they lean back. Gig tilts his face, kissing the inside of their wrist. Echo flicks their gaze to Grand for a moment, and then back to Gig, letting their thumb brush against his bottom lip. Gig’s licks the tip of their thumb, and they make a pleased sound. Encouraged, Gig sucks Echo’s thumb into his mouth, letting his teeth scrape lightly over their knuckle.

 

Slowly, they drag their eyes away from him and back to Grand. There’s a trickle of sweat running down Grand’s hairline. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then swallows hard. Echo can feel his hips trying to move, the weight of both of them holding him down.

 

Gig lets Echo’s thumb fall from his lips. “I think Grand wants his hands free.”

 

“Oh?” says Echo, “Then he should say so.”

 

“Please,” says Grand, his voice a ragged whisper.

 

Echo hums, overly thoughtful. “Please what?”

 

Grand takes a few breaths before he answers. “Please can I have my arms free? Please--”

 

“ _ Just _ your arms?” says Echo, “Are you sure?”

 

They shift, moving Gig with them, to slide their thighs over the hard bulge under the sleeping bag. Grand moans

 

“Not just my arms,” says Grand, “Please-- I---  _ please _ \--”

 

Echo hums again. “Let me think about it.”

 

They pull Gig to them, kissing them deeply. Gig whines deep in his throat, grinding against their thigh and his hands clutching at their back. When they pull back, Gig is panting, a dazed look on his face. They tilt their head at Grand, and Gig blinks.

 

“Oh,” Gig breathes.

 

He twists, tilting Grand face towards and kissing him with the ferocity that Echo has kissed him with. Echo leans back to watch, palming themselves lazily before they reach forward to unzip Grand’s sleeping bag. They stop when they have it unzipped to his waist, reaching in to grind the heel of their hand against him.

 

Grand moans loudly, his hands clumsily clutching at Gig’s shoulders. Echo cups a hand over him, smirking at the way he’s leaked through his loose sleep pants, before he pushes the material aside and wraps a hand around Grand’s length. 

 

Grand arches up, straining against the combined weight of Gig and Echo. Gig glances down, trailing a hand down Grand’s chest to join Echo’s hand for a few strokes, before he wriggles down, his lanky body lying half-off the camp bed as he mouths the head of Grand’s cock, licking stripes in-between Echo’s grip.

 

Grand clutches weakly at the fabric of the sleeping bag, biting his lip in an attempt to muffle himself. Echo uses their free hand to pull Grand towards them, kissing him deeply. The kiss is a little sloppy, Grand too much of a wreck to pay attention to technique. Echo grins against his mouth, scraping their blunt nails against Grand’s scalp as they feel Grand shudder under them.

 

They let go of Grand, ignoring his high-pitched whine as they pull at Gig’s shoulder. Gig follows their motion, crawling back onto Grand’s lap and looking down at them, flushed and curious. They trail a finger along his swollen lips lightly, then trail their hand slowly,  _ slowly _ , down Gig’s chest, letting their palm rest on his stomach. His skin feels hot through the fabric of his tank top despite the cold morning air.

 

Gig presses his lips together, whatever he was about to say lost in sharp intake of breath as Echo traces their hand lower.

 

“Here,” says Gig, his hands going to the fly of his pants, “let me--”

 

“No,” says Echo, “let  _ me _ .”

 

They take longer than they need to, running their fingers over the zip, slowly easing Gig’s pants down. His underwear is just as gaudy as the rest of his clothes, and  _ soaking _ when Echo touches him through the fabric.

 

Echo slips their hand inside Gig, two fingers going in easily. Gig lets out a breathy whine, his cheeks flushed and hips arching up towards Echo’s hand. Grand leans forward, kissing a line along Gig’s neck, and Gig tilts his head to give Grand better access. Grand splays a hand across Gig’s chest, and Gig shudders.

 

“Can I-- another?” says Gig, panting and half-coherent.

 

Echo leans forward, kissing him as they add a third finger. Gig moans, the sound of it getting louder as Echo circles his clit, their fingers moving faster inside him. Gig shudders, going tense as he clenches around Echo’s fingers. Echo coaxes him through the aftershocks, pulling their hand away and feeling the slickness between their fingers. 

 

Gig wraps his hand around their wrist and brings their fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. He keeps eye contact with them as he holds Echo’s hand out to Grand. Grand sucks two fingers into his mouth, greedy and wet. Echo feels like they can’t get enough air, their breath coming quick and short as Gig wriggles down again, kissing his way across their stomach and pulling down their leggings. 

 

The air feels cool against their overheated skin as Gig mouths over them. They tangle their free hand in his hair, pulling him exactly where they need him to be. Gig follows direction well, his mouth hot on their skin. They press their face into their shoulder, trying to quiet their moans, their breath shuddering in their chest. It doesn’t take them long to reach their peak, spilling into Gig’s mouth. They lie back against Grand, and he lets out a quiet whine.

 

Gig leans up, kissing Grand deeply. Echo wraps a hand around him again, and they can hear Grand groan into Gig’s mouth. They work him hard and rough -- no more teasing. They suck bruising kisses down Grand’s neck, feeling his pounding heartbeat under their lips as he comes.

 

Gig rumages under the camp bed for a moment and hands Echo a shirt, and Echo wipes their hand despite Grand’s weak sound of protest. Echo flops down, not bothering to rearrange their clothing, and Gig does the same, slinging a leg over Grand to be able to fit on the small camp bed with them.

 

“We’re going to have to get up soon,” says Gig, voice muffled from where his face is pressed into Grand’s hair.

 

“We almost died yesterday,” says Grand, “surely that gets us a sleep in.”

 

“No,” says Even’s voice from outside, “that got you out of doing the watch last night.”

 

Grand tenses underneath them. “Uh.”

 

“Breakfast in fifteen and then we’re heading out, we’re moving the node today,” says Even.

 

His footsteps are quiet as he walks away from the tent.

 

“Uh,” says Grand again.

 

“We have fifteen minutes,” says Gig, not moving from his position. “I plan to spend at  _ least _ ten of them lying here, you guys in?”

 

Echo huffs a laugh. “Sure.”

 

They feel Grand relax. “Well if  _ you _ are then I guess I  _ have _ to.”

 

“You absolutely have to,” says Gig.

 

He presses a kiss to the top of Grand’s head.

 

Grand hums. “I guess that’s not  _ so _ bad.”

 

Echo smiles, letting their eyes slip closed. They have ten minutes and they plan to enjoy them exactly like this.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


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